A Wonderful Night
by hid6qoh
Summary: After Harry dumps Ginny on the eve of Dumbledore's funeral, she turns to Hermione for comfort. Rated M for lots of smut.
1. A Wonderful Night

Pull yourself together, Ginny, I tell myself solemnly. He's just another boy. You've been through enough of _those_ over the past few years. But I know this wasn't just another boy. It was Harry Potter, my childhood crush and boyfriend of the last few weeks. Who just broke up with me. I should have seen this coming. He's 'The Chosen One', the Boy who Lived, the hero of the magical world. And I'm just me. Ginny Weasley. Youngest of seven. An insignificant little girl compared to the famous Harry Potter.

I've seen the accusing stares. _What's Harry Potter doing with her?_ Harry had always told me he wasn't bothered, that he just wanted to be with me. But that was a lie. Because today, barely an hour after Dumbledore's funeral, he broke up with me. Sure, he said it wasn't safe, that he would be putting me in danger. Who does he think he is anyway? How does he know what's right for me?

As I break out of my reverie, I notice my aimless walking has taken me to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. I think about going for another walk, but I can't face anyone right now. I just want to go to sleep and pretend things are like they were a week ago, before my world turned upside down. I open the portrait hole. For the first time in my five years at Hogwarts, the common room is deserted. Everyone is enjoying the sun in the grounds. I suppose it's just as well I'm in here; five minutes in the sun and I become a giant freckle. I walk up the stairs, trying to avoid the ghosts of all the times I've sat with Harry in here, laughed with him, kissed him …

As I approach my dormitory, I hear laughter. I turn round and head further up the stairs. My friends might be good for a laugh and a gossip, but they wouldn't understand right now. I head for the deserted room at the top of the stairs. The seventh years have all left now, so their room is empty. As I reach the door, however, I hear a peculiar sound from inside: the tweeting of birds…

I open the door and peek my head round. Hermione is sitting on a bed, her back to me, little yellow birds flying round her head. Involuntarily, I smile. Hermione, my best friend, who's always been there for me when I've needed her. She hasn't noticed me yet. I ease the door open, and sit down next to her. Startled, she glances at me, and breaks into that warm smile I love to see. But even without me saying anything, she can see that I'm upset.

"What's the matter?" she asks, her voice soothing even as she wraps a warm arm around me. I notice that she's still wearing her dress from the funeral. Low-cut and strapless, a deep, mournful purple colour that brings out her eyes, it's the sort of thing she never would wear. But I picked it out for her, and cajoled her into wearing it last Christmas. Since then, she's worn it any chance she's got. It's a good choice.

"Harry told me you two had finished. Is that it?" Hermione prods.

I give a weak nod. She pulls me closer into a full hug, arms wrapped tightly around me.

"Don't worry about it, Gin'. It's just too risky for him to be with you just now."

I glare at her angrily, tears that I had been holding back suddenly flooding my eyes.

"Why should he decide? I have a say too!" I exclaim, almost shouting.

To her credit, Hermione doesn't attempt to stop me. She just holds me tighter.

"Do you want to lie down?" Hermione murmurs after what feels like a lifetime. I nod weakly. She gently places me down on the bed and drapes the cover over me.

"Wait," I say as she begins to turn away. "Stay with me. Please."

* * *

I wake with Hermione's warm body next to me. I glance at the window; it's now dark outside. Beside me, I feel Hermione's body stirring softly. I roll over to face her.

"Hey. Feel better?" she asks.

"A lot."

Hermione inches closer to me; she grabs my hand. Her hand is warm and soft. Harry's were always so rough.

"Are you sure?" she asks. Another inch forward. Our noses are practically touching.

"Yeah, much better," I say, not knowing what she's doing. She reaches out a hand and brushes my hair away from my face.

"I always loved your hair," she says. I'm not sure how to reply.

"Hermi-"

Our noses touch and she pulls away. I squeeze her hand.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She looks away. I reach out a hand and turn her face towards me. She's almost crying. Hermione's always so private, so calm. What's got her this way?

"It's ju-it's just-" she stammers. Suddenly I know what to do. I lean forward, and kiss her lightly on the lips. At her look of shock, I pull back, but then it's replaced by that glowing smile I love. I pull her close, so close I can smell her perfume, feel her breath, and I kiss her again. More passionately this time. My hand drifts from her cheek to her hair, then to her neck. I can feel her smiling through the kiss, and we know this is right. My hands clumsily make their way to the zip of Hermione's dress. It won't come down. A wave of fear rushes through me. What if Hermione laughs at me? Thinks I'm no good? Tells me I'm a stupid little girl? But her warm hands guide my shaky ones, and I get her dress unzipped. I pull it down as she tries to undo my cardigan, and we bump into each other.

"This is the worst seduction of all time," I mutter. Hermione places a finger on my lips.

"Shhh. Don't talk. Just let me."

So I stay still as she shrugs off her dress. I had never looked at Hermione in this way, but she is very attractive. Her breasts are bigger than mine, but that's not hard; her real attributes are her legs. Long and tanned, with irresistible thighs that lure you in. I'm sure my jaw must be hanging loose, like in those cartoons you get in the _Sunday Prophet._ She is wearing- hold on-

"Those are my pants!" I exclaim.

Black, with silver sequins, they were my most raunchy piece of attire. They'd been missing for weeks. She just smirks, and does a little sort of half pirouette, almost waving her bum at me.

"Stop messing about," I snap playfully.

I pull my cardigan over my head, jump up, and drag Hermione back to the bed.

"Wait a second."

"What now?" Hermione moans as she unbuttons my shirt, eyes focused on the bra beneath it. "What if someone comes in?"

I don't think Hermione hears me, as she reaches a hand inside my skirt.

"I'll just –Whoa!-lock it."

I struggle to say the words as Hermione pulls my pants off, then eagerly thrusts a finger into my vagina. I reach for my wand, murmur 'Colloportus', and that's it.

"THAT'S IT!" I cry as Hermione slides two more fingers in. I shrug my shirt off, and focus on removing Hermione's bra. Where's the clasp? God, I'm useless at this.

"It's a frontsie," Hermione whispers as she removes her fingers and slides my skirt off. I begin to reach round, but Hermione stops me.

"No, use your teeth," she says.

"What if my lip gets caught in the clasp?" I ask without thinking. Merlin, just shut up Ginny.

So here we lie together, Hermione on top, me underneath, clumsiness and awkwardness and eagerness personified. Hermione has somehow got my bra off, so I am completely naked. Hermione has a hungry look in her eye that I've only seen when she opens a new book. She kisses me again, probing my mouth with her tongue. I respond, meeting her tongue with my own. Before I can get too into the kiss, she breaks it off and starts working her way down my body.

She traces her way down my neck with her tongue. I moan half-heartedly to 'stop teasing me', but she pays no attention. She reaches my breasts. She delicately squeezes my right breast, playing with it. I know she's toying with me. She has her head between my breasts. Her hair is tickly: I suppress a laugh. Suddenly she starts nibbling my nipple with her teeth. A wave of sheer pleasure passes through me as she licks and caresses my nipples.

She starts to get a firmer grip with her teeth. This is starting to really hurt, but it feels _so_ good. I find myself holding onto Hermione's bum for dear life as my whole body shakes with the sheer sensation of it. I suddenly decide to take some control back. I reach for Hermione's pants (they are _so_ mine) and rip them off her. Hermione stops for a second. That second is all I need. I push her up into the air and roll her over.

Now I am on top. I go for her bra with my teeth, no regard for lip injuries. Somehow I get it open quickly. Now there is a sight for sore eyes. Hermione's breasts, so deliciously round and firm and, well,_ petite_. But I've got bigger gnomes to throw. I trace a finger down her body, from her neck down to her-

"Well, someone's been using Sleekit's Hair Removal cream," I say wryly.

I slip a finger into her vagina. With my other hand I start frantically rubbing pretty much everywhere else down there. Like I said, I'm inexperienced at this sort of thing. Tentatively, I lower my head and stick my tongue into her vagina. I've heard that's what people do. Hermione lets out a deep catlike moan, and arches her back. That must be good. Getting into a more comfortable position, I start licking her vagina, while also exploring her body with my hands.

As I stick my tongue in deeper and deeper, Hermione starts yelping in a high-pitched tone. I slide two fingers in as well for good measure. With my other hand, I squeeze her breasts. She seems to like it. I take my fingers out and start rubbing her clitoris again. She's moaning constantly now. I increase the pace, licking deeper and deeper while massaging her breasts. I slide my hand down to her bum. Hermione is shaking now.

I stick my fingers back in, three of them. Suddenly Hermione starts to scream. I lower my head back down to her vagina, wondering if something has gone wrong. I stick my tongue in again, and Hermione screams louder. She grasps my hair, holding on to the bed with the other hand as if we were about to take off. She arches her back, moans once more, then lies flat on the bed. I feel something warm and sticky on my tongue.

"Ooohhh!" I exclaim. I look at Hermione. She lies there, eyes closed. Is she dead? She sits up and kisses me.

"Don't, I've got weird stuff in my mouth," I say. She laughs, and manoeuvres me somehow so I'm on my back.

"I like the weird stuff."

* * *

Gradually, I wake up. I lie confused for a second, wondering why I am not in my dormitory with my Holyhead Harpies bedsheets. My head is resting on some sort of weird pillow…My eyes snap open. Hermione is lying next to me. My head is nuzzled between her breasts, our bodies intertwined so that I can't tell what's her and what's me. Her legs are wrapped around me, as if to protect me. I am in shock. _What was I thinking?_ _Hermione?_ She's a girl. I've never been attracted to girls. Even in second year, when all my friends were experimenting with each other, I stayed clear. There's always been a strong taboo in the magical world against homosexuality, especially among pure-bloods; there's just so few of us left.

And yet… Hermione _is _beautiful. And smart, and brave. If she was a boy, girls would be fighting wand and fist for her. I can't face this right now. I roll away from Hermione, agonisingly aware of her golden legs sliding past mine, her lovely breasts inches away from my face. Unwanted memories flash up from last night. Hermione, moaning softly as I licked and caressed her vagina. Me, shaking as Hermione took my nipple in her mouth. Hermione on top of me, rubbing her vagina against mine. Lying for hours, just holding each other, talking, laughing, kissing.

I stand up, searching the room for my pants. Where are they? Giving them up for lost, I quickly slide into my skirt and throw on my cardigan. I just want to get out. Hopefully no one has noticed my absence. My hand reaches the door handle. I gently twist it, cringing at the creaking noise-I hear Hermione stir behind me.

"Ginny? Where are you going?"

I don't turn round. I ease the door open.

"Ginny, I- I love you."

_That_ stops me in my tracks. I slowly turn around. Hermione is sitting up, equal amounts of pleading and desperation on her face.

"Hermione, I-"

The words stick in my throat.

"Thanks for a wonderful night," I mumble weakly as the door slams shut. For some reason, I'm almost crying. Blinking back the tears, I head downstairs, and don't look back.


	2. Petrified

A knock on the door.

Nervously, I pull the sheets up to my chin. It's a hot summer's night; I'm not wearing anything.

"Who is it?" I call, a slight tremor in my voice.

The door swings open. In the moonlight streaming in through my bedroom window, I see a shadowy form slip inside. I'd recognise her anywhere.

"What are you doing here?" I call hesitantly.

In the moonlight, I see the faint ghost of a smile on her lips. It's strange; I can barely see my hand in front of my face in this darkness, but I can still make out Hermione's face, as bright and beautiful as ever. Still smiling, she murmurs something.

A fireplace crackles into life, casting a warm glow over the room. Over Hermione. She wears that purple dress I love so much, the hem _just_ high enough to tease those long, luscious legs of hers. She is radiant.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" I ask. It must be; Hermione's with her parents, a hundred miles from the Burrow. I'm just going to close my eyes, and Hermione will be gone.

In a blink, she crosses the room. Uncomfortably, I shift towards the wall, away from her, as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her hand, resting on top of the sheets, brushes my hip; I twitch, an electric jolt of - _something -_ rushing through my veins. Her hand reaches under the cover; I don't say anything. I can feel her fingers, inching closer and closer to my-

Abruptly, she pulls away, smiling again. She leans in close to me, her lips tickling my ear.

"Did you think it would be that easy?" she whispers.

Too late, I realise I'm not dreaming. Hermione pulls away again before I can react; she seizes my wand from my bedside table. She jumps to her feet, twirling it idly between her fingers.

"Hey-" I begin awkwardly, still trapped in my nakedness beneath the covers.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," she whispers. _Uh-oh_. With every sinew in my body, I try to move. Not an inch. I try to speak.

"This isn't a dream, is it?" I mumble weakly. Well, at least that's what I tried to say. It comes out more like 'Thishizzentadree'. Hermione seems to pick up the gist of it; she grins wickedly.

"Afraid not, Gin'. I just got here. Your Mum told me to make myself comfortable-" she tosses my wand aside, still grinning- "So I will."

Hermione climbs eagerly onto the bed, straddling my frozen hips. Slowly, she begins to run her hands up and down my body. Her fingertips brush against my nipples, teasing my breasts with the slightest touches. I think she'll stop at my chin, at the sheets, but no, she keeps exploring. She cups my cheek, runs her hands through my hair, kisses my neck. I'm helpless to resist.

"Hermione!" I try to exclaim; all that comes out is some sort of muffled mumble.

"Shhh!" Hermione urges, placing a finger to my lips. "You're mine, now, Ginny."

"Hermione– you can't-"

"Can't I?" she replies, smirking. Hermione leans in close to whisper in my ear. I can feel her warm breath; the tip of her tongue teases my skin. "_I_ think I can do whatever I want, Ginny."

"Hermi-"

"No more talking," she says, placing a finger over my lips as I attempt one last protest. Her fingers find the sheets; she draws them back, exposing my breasts. She stops at my waist.

"I think that's far enough for now," she says, grinning hungrily. Starting at my waist, she begins to work her way up my body with a series of delicate kisses, raising goosebumps on my pale white skin.

"Hermione..." I murmur weakly. Despite it all, I start to feel the urge to slide a finger into my vagina.

With a last, loving kiss, Hermione reaches my breasts. Her stare lingers on them for a moment. Then, her eyes flit up to mine, wide with fear. She smiles. Hermione meets my lips again, the contact sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. With one hand, she squeezes my breast softly, her thumb teasing my nipple.

She pulls away from the kiss, her right hand now eagerly clasping my breast. Just like she did at Hogwarts, she traces her way down my neck with more kisses, agonisingly slowly. Every kiss sends a wave of pleasure coursing through me. And then she reaches my breasts, and the waves intensify as her tongue teases my nipple.

"Oh, Hermione," I gasp again as she caresses my breasts with her mouth. The urge to finger myself is unbearable. This is torture.

Hermione begins to nibble my nipples softly.

"Oh..._oh..._" I moan, as Hermione grows more and more bold. I can feel it, the orgasm, the wave of pleasure about to crash down onto the sandy shore-

"Hey!" Hermione exclaims, sitting upright with a start. "We're barely _started _yet."

She smiles coyly.

"You must be _really _into me."

She grabs my hand. Her eyes fixed on me, she takes my finger into her mouth.

"Whoa," I mutter. "Hermione, you're kinky."

She smiles, abandoning my finger, and slides off my waist. She reaches for the sheets, still draped around my stomach.

"Please don't start kissing my legs," I whine. "We'll be here all night."

She laughs softly. She pulls the sheets off with a flourish, then tosses them aside.

"Okay, Ginny. No messing around."

She kneels between my legs. Slowly, she runs her hands up the insides of my thighs, parting my legs. She begins to trace a finger across my vagina.

"Hermione-"

"No messing around," she reassures me, sliding two fingers into me. Slowly, at first, she begins to finger me. Then, gradually, she begins to increase the pace, sliding her fingers deeper and deeper into me. I can't move, but still, my body trembles in sheer ecstasy. This can't get any better, I think. What a fool I am, I think a moment later, as she lowers her tongue to my vagina. And then, mere seconds later, I can't take any more. The waves of pleasure come crashing down.

"Oh – _Hermione_-" I exclaim, my moans increasing in volume every time Hermione's tongue slides into me.

"Oh- oh- HERMIONE!" I yell, my hips arching off the bed in sheer exhilaration. And that's it. The waves recede, leaving me feeling drained. I sit up, sighing happily- _hold on_. I can move.

Hermione giggles at the gradually dawning comprehension on my face.

"There was no spell, was there?" I ask sheepishly. She shakes her head, still laughing.

"You – you-" I stammer.

"Me, me," she repeats happily.

"You-I-" Grumpily, suddenly self-aware of my nakedness, I pull the sheets back over me and flop back into bed.

"So...is that a no for cuddling?" Hermione asks.

"Good night, Hermione," I snap, turning away from her.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" she pouts.

"Find a comfortable spot on the floor," I suggest.

* * *

I stare down at my plate. The wall. The ceiling. Everywhere except for Hermione, sitting across from me, lost in the Daily Prophet. She's wearing my dressing gown. It's slightly too small for her, and doesn't quite – _fulfil its duties _- as an item of clothing. _I bet that's deliberate_, I think bitterly. Our knees bump, and I nearly hit the ceiling. Milk splashes onto my lap, the table, and Hermione's newspaper. She lowers the paper, and looks at me like you would look at a misbehaving pet.

"Ginny, in the name of Merlin, stop being so _jumpy_. We've fucked, I think we're past the 'bumping knees' stage to be-"

"Not here," I hiss angrily. "Not now."

"Whatever," she sighs. "I'm going to get dressed."

She gets up, rearranging her dressing gown as she does so, then walks out of the room, I watch her leave, her dressing gown just covering her gorgeous bum. She stops in the doorway, turning casually back to face me.

"You know you wanted it," she says slyly. As she walks away, I come to a distressing conclusion.

_Merlin's beard. I'm falling for Hermione._


	3. Together

"Hey, Ginny?"

"What?" I mumble grumpily, rolling over in bed to face Hermione with bleary eyes. She lies in her own bed, mere inches away from mine. That playful smile is back. The one that always means trouble.

"Want to fuck?" she asks nonchalantly.

"No," I snap, turning away from her.

"Why not?"

"You know why not," I mumble.

"Do tell."

"Because - because I don't want to, okay?" I reply weakly. She falls silent for a moment, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight – never have I wanted to fall asleep as desperately as I do now.

"But _why_ don't you want to?" she asks teasingly. "Because, you know, you kinda seem to enjoy it."

"We are not discussing this," I mutter, burying my suddenly-flushed face in my Holyhead Harpies pillow. "It was a one-time thing, no more."

"Two-time," she reminds me slyly.

"One time," I repeat. "The second time – the second time doesn't count. You tricked me."

"Did I?" she asks, amused. "Did the big meanie Hermione 'twick' ickle little Ginny into lying still while mean old Hermione ate poor Ginny out?" Her tone hardens. "Don't lie, you loved it."

"No I didn't," I lie.

"Yes, you did," she repeats in a mocking, sing-song voice.

"Did not."

"Did too."

Involuntarily, I find myself smiling.

"Okay, _maybe_ I enjoyed it," I admit sheepishly. "But- but it's just _wrong_, Hermione. In so many ways."

"Name them," she prods stubbornly.

"Uhh- well, first of all, we've been friends since about forever-"

"So?" she interrupts. "You and Harry were friends before you got together. Ron and I are friends, that doesn't stop him desperately wanting it."

"Yeah, but – we're different, Hermione. We're girls."

"Girls?" she laughs, affecting a mocking, contorted version of my voice. "Like, who'd want to kiss a girl? They're, like, so totally disgusting!"

"That's not what I mean," I say heatedly. "I do – er – _like_ you in that way- I mean, you're hot – but we have this amazing friendship, and I don't want to ruin it."

"I think we're past that point, to be honest," she points out dryly. "We've fucked twice, and seen each other naked – somehow, I don't think we're going to go back to being BFF's. What's your next point?"

"Two, my mother would kill me if she found out I was dating a girl."

"Who's dating? Just a bit of innocent fun between two friends."

"Innocent?" I scoff.

"Well, maybe not innocent," she admits. "I've got to have fun, after all." She pauses for a moment. "So are we going to fuck or not? I'm getting bored."

"No."

Wrapping the sheets tightly around me, I close my eyes.

* * *

_It's a sunny evening at the Burrow. No one else is in. Just me and Hermione, sitting on our favourite bench, watching the sun go down. It's beautiful. She's beautiful. We're holding hands. _

_Hermione turns to me. _

"_I love you, Ginny."_

"_I love you too, Hermione." _

_Hesitatingly, I lean in for a kiss. My lips meet hers, and it's bliss. I explore her body with my hands, poking and prodding to make sure she's real. She's real, alright. She probes my mouth with her tongue, leaning in closer and running her hand through my hair. I eagerly return the kiss, our tongues meeting. I lift her jumper over her head._

"_I've missed you so much," I say during a surface for air. She nods, then kisses me again, simultaneously sliding my t-shirt over my head, and pulls me on top of her. She unbuttons my bra, then flings it aside. Throwing any sort of elegance or patience to the wind, she sucks my nipples, working them till they go hard. She worms a hand into my pants, and traces a line around my vagina with her finger. _

"_Stop messing," I moan. I work on getting Hermione's jeans off; they're very tight. She unbuttons my jeans, and I wriggle out of them. And onto Hermione's finger._

"_Oh!" I make a little noise of surprise as her finger slides abruptly into my vagina. Hermione brings it out, then using two fingers, begins to slowly slide them in and out again…_

* * *

And I wake up drenched in sweat.

"Hermi – what-"

Then I see her, sleeping mere inches away, and I realise it was just another dream. It's not the first. It probably won't be the last. But, somehow...this one was different.

I still feel horny.

Silently, I slide out of bed, dressed only in my nightgown. Hermione is sleeping, her back to me, the sheets cast aside in the summer heat. Her pyjama shirt is caught around her waist, exposing three inches of glorious midriff. A skimpy pair of pyjama shorts conceal her bum. And a very nice bum it is. Her breath is rhythmic, peaceful, her chest slowly rising and falling in the moonlight. I make my mind up.

Tentatively – wincing at every squeak of springs – I sink onto Hermione's bed. I slide towards the curve of Hermione's body, knowing with every passing millisecond that this is intensely, immensely wrong. Gently, I bump up against Hermione, hip to hip.

She stirs.

"You're not a very good spoon," Hermione murmurs.

Hermione worms her way backwards, into the crook of my body. I can feel her soft hair, her glorious warmth, her smooth curves, everything. I can feel Hermione's shorts, pressing against the pit of my stomach. Our bare legs intertwine. Hermione's body...I long to reach out and touch it. I know I could spend hours exploring it, every pore, every beautiful nook and cranny.

Hermione shifts, and her bum slides down from my stomach, rubbing against my hips, coming to a rest mere inches above the hem of my nightgown.

"Nope, still not right," Hermione murmurs.

She shifts again, sending a jolt of excitement through me. Hermione reaches out behind me, and after a bit of exquisite groping, finds my arm. Hermione pulls it round her, leaving my palm on her exposed midriff. Hermione sighs contently, then rests her head down on the pillow; she shuts her eyes again.

Playing hard to get, is she? I can live with that. Slowly, under the pretence of shifting position, I begin to explore Hermione's body, running my hand over her smooth skin. My hand dips near Hermione's waist, then rises to just below her breasts, tracing a ring around Hermione's belly button on the way. Hermione giggles at that, her brown hair tickling my nose.

My hand seems to have a life of its own, ignoring the now-tiny voice in my mind that screams that this is wrong, that I shouldn't do this. Growing in courage, I begin to inch my hand toward Hermione's shorts. Almost there...

Hermione rolls towards me, and my hand darts away from her body. Hermione's eyes are sparkling; gleeful.

"What is it?" I ask guiltily.

"So you _do _want to," she smiles, a smile that warms my heart. "Excellent."

She places a hand on my waist, and, suddenly, all the doubt comes flooding back.

"I – I don't know-" I stammer. Abruptly, I turn away from her. "I could give you a million reasons why this is wrong," I say quietly.

Hermione's hand slides from my waist to my bum.

"So give me them afterward," she murmurs, squeezing my bum softly. I grab Hermione's hand and drag it firmly in front of her.

"Or I could give you them now! One-"

Hermione takes one of my fingers in her mouth. She caresses it gently with her tongue, her lips brushing softly against my skin.

"Ooh!" I initially exclaim, but this quickly softens to murmured 'oh's. Hermione works all the way from my index finger to my pinkie, and I don't say a word.

"No, we shouldn't," I murmur, as Hermione drops my hand and begins to fondle my bum again, fingers teasing the hem of my nightie.

We lay face to face, mere inches away from each other. My face is frightened, fearful, but also...curious. Her expression is just pure hunger. I can tell she wants to do everything at once; kiss me over and over again, fondle my breasts, take my pants off, touch every inch of my body; she wants to do it all.

I blush, then turn away again, lying with my back to Hermione. She slides closer, her turn to be the big spoon. Hermione resists the urge to grab my bum again, and instead takes my hand, our fingers twining together.

Slowly, Hermione draws my hand towards her, past the curve of her hips, until our hands settle on Hermione's bare upper leg. Her pyjama shorts are off. Far too fast for me – though probably agonisingly slowly to Hermione – she begins to draw our hands up her leg, inching closer and closer to her cunt. I don't resist, though my hand begins to tremble when we reach Hermione's upper thigh.

My fingertips brush against her cunt. I drop Hermione's hand with a start.

"No, I can't," I murmur.

"Yes, you can," Hermione breathes back in my ear.

With a low, panicked moan, I take Hermione's hand again. Quelling a shaking in her own fingertips, Hermione guides my hand to her cunt. She moans softly with exhilaration as my nimble fingers slide into her.

Hermione pushes up against me with a moan as, slowly at first, I begin to slide two fingers in and out of her. I know how she feels; I've been there before. She can do nothing but lie there, helpless, as waves of pleasure roll over her.

I begin to increase the pace, contorting my arm at seemingly impossible angles to reach my arm around my waist, down between Hermione's legs, and slide my fingers deeper and deeper into my best friend. The slow waves of pleasure intensify, manifesting in goosebumps all over Hermione's body. Beads of sweat pop into life on Hermione's forehead.

I continue all the time, exploring Hermione with my other fingers. Hermione moans as a finger brushes against her clit. Another moves around seemingly at random, at one point meandering towards Hermione's asshole, the next tracing circles on the inside of her thighs. Whatever I do, it's bliss for Hermione, and after a couple of minutes, the waves of pleasure are no longer waves. They are a vast, sweeping torrent of exhilaration, racing through every corner of Hermione's body, teasing every nerve ending.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaims, letting out a long, low moan as the orgasm sweeps over her. It seems to last an eternity; then its over, far too soon. As my fingers slide out of her, I know she feels drained. My hand tries to sneak back to my side; instinctively, Hermione grabs it.

"Look at me," she whispers. Our eyes meet, brown and brown. "I – Ginny-"

"We should do this more often," I interrupt lightly.

She grins.

"Definitely."


	4. Double Trouble

"I've got a special treat for you, 'Gin."

"A treat?" I repeat dully, looking up as Hermione slips through my bedroom door. She has one hand hidden behind her back. "What sort of treat?"

She grins.

"A sexy one. Sit down."

She positively bounds across the room towards me, easing me downwards into a sitting position on the edge of my bed. Nervously, I laugh.

"Seriously, Hermione, what is it?"

She reaches out with her left hand; she brushes the hair out of my eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Ginny," she murmurs softly.

"Hermione-"

Abruptly, before I can so much as blink, she snips a stray hair from my fringe.

"What the-" I begin to exclaim, before Hermione reveals what she has hidden behind her back; a bubbling, smoking flask of murky liquid. A chill shudders down my spine as it all falls into place.

"No way!" I exclaim loudly, snatching at the flask. Laughing, Hermione yanks it out of my reach. Before I can stop her, she drops a long, red hair into the flask; instantly, the liquid turns a brilliant, clear purple.

"Hermione, this is too weird," I plead.

"Shhh!" she urges, placing a finger to my lips. Our eyes meet; she takes a long sip from the flask.

"Hermione, you're the kinky one, not me! You don't have to do this, you..."

I trail off as Hermione's face starts to bubble. It's begun. Her face ripples, and Hermione grimaces as the Polyjuice Potion takes effect. Within seconds, its over. It's like looking in a mirror. Except, whereas the _real _me's expression is one-parts fear, two-parts anger and a whole lot of grossed-out, Hermione-me's expression is pure hunger. I know that look; I just never thought I'd see it on my own face.

"Isn't this hot?" Hermione whispers, taking my hands in her own. My hands...my everything. My own face grins at me; my nose, freckly as ever, my lips, my brown eyes, my long, rich red hair, my small breasts, my curves, my legs...

"I _like _your body," Hermione continues, taking a step away to eye herself in the mirror. She cups my – her – breasts. "These are _cute_!"

"Stop doing that," I snap, suddenly self-conscious.

"Oh, lighten up," she sighs, twisting side-on to eye her posterior in the mirror. "You're so thin!" she exclaims.

Without further ado, Hermione whips her t-shirt and jeans off, tossing them aside carelessly. She steps towards me, grinning happily.

"This is too weird," I repeat, backing away – and inadvertently toppling back onto my bed. I hear Hermione laugh – and then she's on top of me, kissing me with my own lips.

_Whoa, _I think. _I'm a better kiss than I thought. _Yeah, it's weird. But, somehow, I don't care anymore. The kiss is explosive, exhilarating; it seems to last an eternity. Everything else disappears; You-Know-Who, the Death Eaters, Harry, Ron, Mum, Dad; everything except me, and Hermione, and the way her lips feel on mine. Technically, isn't it the way _my_ lips feel on mine? Whatever, it doesn't matter. What matters is the way her tongue begs for entry into my mouth, and the way I relent, meeting her tongue with my own. The softness of her skin as I run my hands all over her – my – body; her neck, her cheeks, through her hair, down her back – and the warmth of her hands, doing exactly the same thing. It's strange; my skin is icy-cold to the touch, but Hermione – Hermione radiates heat.

And then, the kiss is broken, and for a moment, Hermione and I lie still on the bed, a wild tangle of arms and legs and breasts.

"Told you you'd like it," Hermione breathes into my ear as I roll on top of her. My own face, flushed with sweat, stares up at me; still, I'd recognise Hermione's wicked grin anywhere.

"It's _so _wrong," I reply, eyeing her t-shirt hungrily. I reach for it with delicate, nimble fingers, pulling it up to expose her midriff.

"Who-"

"No more talking," I interrupt, placing a finger over her lips. I pull her t-shirt off. My gaze lingers, for a moment, on her breasts, concealed only by a skimpy black bra. My eyes flit upwards to Hermione's; she has the strangest expression on her face, half lust, half...pride? It's kind of a 'the pupil has become the master' expression. It's hot.

I ignore her breasts. Instead, I go straight for her jeans, a pair of Hermione's that are slightly too small for me. That makes it easy to slide them off, revealing long, pale-skinned legs and a pair of sequined black pants.

"Hey!" I exclaim. Hermione sticks her tongue out at me.

Starting at her toes, I kiss my way up the inside of Hermione's legs. When I reach her pants, Hermione is already fingering herself. I pull her pants off enthusiastically.

"Huh," I mutter, staring, head tilted quizzically, at my cunt. "I've never seen it from this angle before."

"Take a closer look," Hermione moans.

Dutifully, I lower my head to her cunt, easing Hermione's folds apart to slip my tongue into her warm, moist core. Hermione may be way more experienced than me at this, but, right now, she's in my body. That means my stamina - which is to say, none. Within minutes, she's puffing and panting; ready to blow the house down.

Then, a mad notion strikes me. Mad – but it seems like the kind of thing Hermione would like. Reaching past her cunt, down through the gap between her thighs, I slide a finger into Hermione's asshole. Or mine, rather. Either way, Hermione squeals with pleasure.

"I knew you'd like that," I whisper into her ear as she wriggles on my finger. I don't think she hears me.

"Ginny – _ginny _-" she moans, over and over again, as she orgasms. When it's over, she smiles.

"Ginny, you're kinky."

"I learned from the best."


	5. The Disappointment

"Hey, 'Gin, look at this spell I just found."

"Huh?"

I look up from my _Holyhead Harpies _annual to see Hermione thrusting a thick spellbook towards me. The book is already open. Hermione is positively glowing with excitement.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" I ask, taking the book from Hermione. On one side of the page, there's a rather lewd drawing of two naked women. On the other, a whole lot of strange squiggles that I vaguely recognise as Ancient Runes.

"It's a sex-change spell," Hermione exclaims, pointing to the drawing of the two women. Looking closer, I see one of them has a -

"No way!" I exclaim, slamming the book shut.

"C'mon," pleads Hermione. "I'll do whatever you want for a week..."

"Oh – well- fine," I sigh, handing the book back to her. "You'd better do the spell, I don't read Squigglish."

Hermione reopens the book. In deep, powerful intonations, she speaks the incantation;

"Vain vähän hauskaa!"

Nothing happens. Hermione checks her pants; nothing.

"It didn't work," I point out. Hermione sighs.

"Well, that was disappointing."


	6. Nineteen Years Later

"There it is, Rose," Hermione says. "King's Cross Station."

"Are you _sure_?" our daughter asks for the twentieth time, her eyes fixed on the building looming large across the street. "Because, it wouldn't be the first time-

"Yes, we're _sure_," I sigh, exasperated. "Look, there's the sign over there. Five more minutes, and you'll be on your way to Hogwarts."

"_Mum_!" Rose hisses, her arms folded. She looks rather cross. "You're not supposed to say the _H-word_ around-" she pauses to glance suspiciously at a passing old man- "Around Muggles! Professor Longbottom told me!"

"I see she's inherited your penchant for breaking rules," I whisper to Hermione out of the corner of my mouth. "And when did she start calling Neville 'Professor Longbottom'?"

"Since the _H-word _letter came," Hermione murmurs back, clearly trying not to laugh. "Sorry, sweetie," she apologises in a louder voice, smiling at Rose. "Slip of the tongue."

"_Silly _Ginny," I sigh, leaning close to Rose. "I guess we shouldn't say-" I lower my voice to a dramatic whisper- "That Rose is a _witch_, either?"

"_Ginny_!" Rose exclaims, looking around nervously. "They might- might _burn me at the stake_, or something!"

"Of course they won't," I assure her. "Muggles only burn _naughty _children, right, Hermione?"

"Ginny, stop trying to traumatise our daughter," Hermione reprimands, amused. "Muggles don't burn witches at the stake, Rose."

"I'm _not_ a witch, anyway," says Rose, sticking her tongue out at me. "Not _properly_, anyway. I haven't started Hog- the _H-word _yet."

"Which H-word was that?" I ask slyly. "Hospital? Helsinki? Higgledy-piggledy?"

"I'm not saying it," she says firmly.

"Fine," I sigh, checking my watch. "That's ten to eleven. C'mon, we'd better get a move on if you want to catch the train."

We cross the quiet, leaf-strewn street, hand-in-hand.

"Autumn's come really quickly this year," Hermione says.

"I know," I sigh as we reach the other side of the street. "One moment, it's summer, it's sunny, Rose is still our ickle baby girl-"

"Hey!"

"Then all of a sudden, the leaves are falling off the trees, the weather's getting cold again…and Rose is still our ickle baby girl."

"Hey!"

"For three more days, at least," I say, squeezing her hand as we reach the other side and step through a grand glass door into the station. "Here we are..." I murmur.

"What will you do all day without me?" Rose asks, swinging her brand new Hogwarts schoolbag happily.

"Oh, I can think of a few things," Hermione replies, catching my eye. I grin. _One more day_, I mouth back. One more day until...well, Hermione's the ideas girl. I just go along with the ride.


End file.
